Saturday, December 4, 1944
10:31 A.M.
"What did you say you were doing today?" Ginny asked Hermione from her place curled up comfortably on a fluffy recliner in the made-over, currently den-like Room of Requirements.
"I'm…" Hermione paused in front of an elegant, full-length mirror set up decoratively along one of the Room's walls. "Erm…" Sticking one sturdy hair bands between her teeth, she expertly pulled what she could of her soft (but wild) curly chocolate brown hair into a ballet bun. She secured her hair at the end and only a few curly wisps around her face remained free. "…going to Hogsmeade."
"Oh, that's right, Hogsmeade," Ginny muttered darkly, not wanting her friend to close to that monster.
Hermione critically eyed the remainder of her appearance. She was wearing a knitted long-sleeve dress with black winter boots. And because Hermione prided herself with being modest, she wore a pair of black leggings under the dress, much to Ginnys horror because she was 'wearing it wrong'. And finally, she had on a gold bracelet that Celene had lent her. All in all, Hermione had to admit this was the prettiest she had ever felt since the Yule Ball. Hermione decided that a simple warming charm would most likely serve as good enough guard against the unrelenting, bitter winter chill that she would undoubtedly find at the village.
Her eyes taking in the otherwise deserted Room of Requirements, Hermione frowned. "Hey, Gin, have you seen everyone else? I know Harry's last Dark Arts meeting was last night, if you know what I mean, but Ron, Lav, Celene, Danielle and Draco said they would all be going."
"Oh, I know what you mean," Ginny agreed scathingly, "Harry probaly barely made it threw the halls before crashing back into the Slytherin Common Room at three in the morning. I don't especially blame him. As for the rest of them, I've got one word for you, darling." Ginny unaffectedly flipped the page of the 1944 December edition of Witches' Vogue in her hands. "And that's 'Quidditch.' "
Hermione's mouth dropped open, and she glanced over her shoulder and through the frosted window… at the fat, falling, blowing snow that seemed as if it had appeared out of a winter wonderland. "They have practice in that?"
Good Lord, men and sports...and there supportive girlfriends.
"Yeah, Harry's still upset that Coffee beat him for Seeker. He claims it was a mistake and that he wasn't in his Quidditch Aura that day." Ginny smirked. "It's lovely, having a girl be such a good Seeker. You know, back in Hogwarts we just had Cho and me."
"True," Hermione said absently, throwing on her cloak.
She hummed in response, her brown eyes momentarily spacing out. Absently, Ginny played with the green and red cover of Witches' Vogue but then---as if on inspiration---she snapped her fingers.
"Why don't you ditch Riddle just this time and go with Dominic Davies? Ravenclaw doesn't have Quidditch today, and I've heard that Davies has a bit of a thing for you. And Mione, you have to admit, with him being the captain of the Ravenclaw team, you have a very eligible Holiday Soiree date in the bag—"
"Gin," Hermione began, returning her attention to the mirror and watching her reflection as she wrapped her striped Ravenclaw scarf around her neck, moving on to her blue and bronze gloves, "I can't flunk out Riddle. And Davies seems nice but not my type...at all."
Hermione finished with the gloves then glanced at Ginny, calculatingly watching her via mirror. Deciding that a quick exit was the best way to go, she waved as cheerfully as she could at Ginny's redheaded reflection and turned toward the door. But before she made it, Ginny inquired in a neutral voice, "Did he ask, or did you?"
Hermione's feet reluctantly halted, inches from the door. "I did," she replied, spinning back around toward Ginny. "He hasn't gone before because he never had any parents to sign his permission. Ever."
Ginny snorted. "Oh, poor boy, then, isn't he?" Flinging aside the Witches' Vogue with a sudden, newfound energy, and using that dark, acidic tone she only uses when talking about Voldemort . The man who had possessed her, had made her first year at Hogwarts a waking nightmare. Ginny stood lithely, tightly grasping Hermione's shoulders. "Don't think for a minute that he hasn't been there, Mione! You can bet that he's gone there illegally for all of his Dark Magic activities and Death Eater contacts, you can bet yourself that!"
Hermione sighed and placed her hands on Ginny's shoulders. "Ginevra, do you remember what I asked all of you to do for me back in here a few days ago, particularly regarding a certain curse, a certain plan of mine, and a certain Heir of Slytherin?"
At hearing her full name, Ginny winced, but that didn't mean she was giving up. "I know, I know, Hermione; no interfering. But let me say this once, one time. Then I swear on Merlin's grave, I will never bring it up again. I will never even mention your relationship with Vol —Riddle— ever, ever again. I swear."
Somehow, Hermione found Ginny's last phrase a bit hard to swallow, but didn't interrupt.
The redhead's voice lowered urgently, gaining both momentum and a desperate, untamed air. "Mione, I've seen the side of him that you can't seem to accept is there. I've seen the Darker side, I've felt the pure utter evil that eats and eats away at innocent people's souls-" Her normally assertive voice caught slightly, but she swallowed hard and continued quietly, "Until all that's left is a ghost of what was."
"I remember, Gin," Hermione muttered, hugging the girl, "You know that I do." Hermione eyes saddened at the memory. By no means had she forgotten how the Diary had, for so long, affected Ginny. But… there was something about that idea, the idea of the diary…
Hermione frowned momentarily, but her mind was racing, doing Indy 500 laps in her head. Slowly, thoughtfully, not quite sure where the actual inspiration for it came, she mused, "But was it Riddle who actually set up that diary to act as it did, Gin, or was it Lord Voldemort?"
Abruptly, Ginny untangled herself and stepped back from Hermione. Her brown eyes probed her brunette friend in disbelief, as if she couldn't quite believe that the Head Girl for two years running was not able to see what she, Ginny—and what everyone else, it seemed—so clearly saw. "You know, Mione, call me crazy, but I've always been under the rather popular impression that Tom Riddle and Lord Voldemort are, and always have been, the same person."
Her hand resting on the smooth, cool knob of the Room of Requirements door, Hermione froze. She had never thought of it like that before, but Ginny was right: they were the same person.
Weren't they? But a sudden hammer seem to go threw Hermiones head. It wasn't that painful but it wasn't painless either. Then four words came into her head.
Night and Day, Ying and Yang.
What?
A/N: Hello! The picture of the dress is the one Hermione is wearing. Thank you so much for all your nice comments on last chapter. They all mean so much to me. Again, thank you!
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